Broken
by Sejuti Mitra
Summary: What Cas feels when Dean says "No one cares that you are broken, Cas."


Story: Broken

Author: Sejuti Mitra

Rating: G (can be considered pre-slash if you squint)

Warnings: Angst

Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to Supernatural. I just play with the boys cause I love 'em!

Summary: What Cas feels when Dean says _"No one cares that you are broken, Cas."_

**Broken**

"_No one cares that you are broken, Cas."_

I never really showed much emotion. So I just stared at you, trying to shut down all the hurt that my senses screamed to me.

I disappeared. That is what I did now when I became upset.

Disappearing was so easy. Whenever I did not like something, I disappeared. I could not do that before. But I can do that now.

"_No one cares that you are broken, Cas."_

You were never the one to hide your emotions. You always spoke your mind aloud, disregarding the person in front of you. I have always admired everything about you, even this trait.

I cocoon myself in my wings. The place where I am now is one of my 'escape' places. It is on top of a little hill overlooking a lush green valley. It is also one of my favourite places.

I don't feel broken. I feel good. I feel light. I feel better. Better than I have ever felt in my existence. I don't have to worry about anything anymore. Or I thought I did not have to. But you had always been there to prove me wrong.

"_No one cares that you are broken, Cas."_

I chuckle wretchedly. The being for whom I had given up everything—my brothers, my Father, my living place, myself…-had said those words to me. I don't know whether I should pity myself or my stupidity.

Uriel had always said, "Don't trust humans, Castiel. They are greedy creatures. No matter what you do for them, they always ask for more. One mistake and they will forget every single thing you did for them, and hate you."

I had laughed at him then. He was the cynical one in our garrison. But now, I realize just what he had meant.

I had never really thought that you would hold me near to you. But I did think that I meant something—anything, to you. From the time that I saved you from Hell, I had cared for you. And always, always, I have longed to see you happy, to see you peaceful and content, even for a little while. I knew I wished for an impossible thing, but I tried to make your life better—sometimes you were conscious about it, other times you were not.

I never minded when you insulted me. I never really thought you meant it.

But today, Dean, you broke me in a way that even Heaven or Hell could not break me. You broke my heart, the heart which you gave to me; the heart that was created while I stayed with you, in your company. Before you, I did not even know I had a heart.

My brothers said that you had created doubt in my mind, fogging it from clear judgment. But I always believed that you were the one who enlightened me in every way, clearing my mind and making me see the difference between right and wrong, the vitality of human race, making me feel, making me love…

I thought you cared for me, Dean. But I was wrong. You had always proven me wrong. After everything I did for you and your brother, the brother whom you hold so close to your heart, I had selfishly believed that I could have a part of that heart as well. But I was wrong. I, who have given my all for you, hoping to get something in return, even a tiny morsel, now have nothing; nothing but your indifference.

Am I so difficult to love? Uriel, though cynical at most times, always had thought fondly of me. Inias trusted my judgment more than himself. Hesther looked up to me respectfully.

Angels love their brothers, no matter what. I had always been taught to do so. Love is different to us. And I know that gaining human love is not as easy as the love we have among angels. Human love was to be gained through time or through hard work and realized during a moment of utter weakness or at the height of power or strength.

Have I not worked hard enough, Dean? Has our bond not gone through the flow of time? Have I not witnessed you in your weakest and strongest moments, or you in mine?

Tears roll down my cheeks and I press them my palms against them, capturing the moisture. It hurts so much. Hearing you say those words, knowing you mean them, it hurts. It hurts when I realize that I was nothing more than just a tool to you; a tool by means of which you slaughter your enemies or remove obstacles; a tool with which you sometimes amuse yourself, a tool on which you vent all your frustrations when you need someone to hear you out. A tool that you use when you need it and then throw it away when you don't.

And you know what hurts the most? It is that I am perfectly happy to oblige to your every whim, that I am okay with you using me to get your own means. And all because I love you—in a way that humans love other humans; and also because you are everything to me. You are my world, Dean. But I mean nothing to you.

I am playing checkers when I hear you enter. I have already decided what I want to do.

"Cas_"

"Dean, I_"

"Look, I know you don't want to fight, but how about a little help."

I look at you intently, taking in your face which was contorted with anxiety, your jaw set in determination, as if waiting for me to refuse you.

I smile secretly at that. You had always jumped to the worst conclusions without hearing the other person out. I was a bit indignant too, as you thought I was going to refuse you. As if I could ever refuse you anything.

"Alright."

You give a tight smile that makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. I know you trust me, but just that, with no strings attached.

I know what you are thinking. You are thinking of the best way to persuade me in assisting you to kill Dick Roman. But you don't have to. I have already decided that I will help you in whatever task you undertake.

After all, I am always happy to help my favourite Winchester; always happy to bleed for you, Dean, to kill for you, to die for you, and to Fall for you.

The End


End file.
